Alphabet Soup
by Pathetic Rainbow
Summary: K : "I thought you were a heartless," she replies unconsciously. "Excuse me?" And she groans, puts her face back into her hands. / Alphabet Series. LenKaho.
1. Almonds

**Almonds**

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Lately, he found himself waiting at the rooftop to eat lunch with her. It was no official affair, as Amou-san would call it. They would just eat lunch together on one of the benches and then play something for the whole school below them to hear. The rumors about them being together because of it spread and sure enough, he took advantage of it. No matter how much Kahoko would deny it in front of the other guys, they were still not thoroughly convinced; therefore Len here had his competition jealous and backing off.

And today? Well, today was normal. Len was waiting at their usual spot. Now, that wasn't something so uncommon, really, since Kahoko would come running through the door, panting and apologizing loudly, a few minutes after Len would arrive. But this time, Kahoko was later than usual—_eleven minutes_, Len counted; it was eleven minutes and counting since Len has arrived with no signs of Kahoko coming anytime soon. There was no swift shuffling of feet on the stairs that would make Len's heart quicken its pace with the thought that in any second, Kahoko would be bursting through and would smile softly at him albeit her tired form.

He heaved a sigh. He was lonely _again_. He usually didn't eat lunch and would spend the free time to practice some more, but since Kahoko was too special to him, he accepted her offer and they would share whatever Kahoko would bring. So aside from him being lonely right now, he was also _hungry_. He was already used to eating during midday that his body would now react differently when he refused to eat during weekends. Kahoko sure has changed him so much, don't you agree?

He sat again at their bench and heaved a long and heavy sigh. He leaned on the wall and scanned his surroundings: the clear blue sky above him, the metal railings on the side of the roof, more benches and plants beside them, and some paper bag on the floor—wait, paper bag? He stood up and scooped the small paper bag from the floor.

_I'm sorry I can't come today, Len-kun. Sensei said that I have to do some extra credit so I wouldn't take removals. I came in advance so that I could leave these—I know you don't bring food and you might get hungry. But I swear I will make it up to you tomorrow, Len-kun! The wind might blow this away so I'm not sure if you'll find this note. So if you're not Len-kun, please do bring this to him! :) – Kaho_

He smiled lightly as he opened the small paper bag; he _loved_ almonds.


	2. Blond

**Blond**

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Just who in this bloody world did he think he was, getting all oh-so intimate with _his_ Kahoko? Sure, they weren't dating officially, but people in Seiso know where they stand; the students knew who was with who and who was _supposed to be_ with who. And Len's and Kahoko's name perfectly fit the latter—_Len_ _was supposed to be with Kahoko_; not this new blond with Kahoko! What was his name again—Aoi Kaji? Ha, that was a girl name, wasn't it?

_Breathe_. Len was raised a gentleman; therefore he had to be flaccid about what he was going through. What do you call this phase again? Self-reasoning or jealousy? Somehow, Len found the former option must more tempting. His ego would more than deflate if someone found out that underneath the icy façade he put up to hide his emotions, he was _jealous_ of a mere gen-ed student. He was not much of a threat, was he?

Honestly, Aoi Kaji was. Len has known him back then through a violin competition—in which he came out as the victor with Blond in third or fourth. Sure enough, he had talent. He also had charm and looks, proven by the newly-constructed fan club for him. But moreover, Aoi actually had the guts to admit whatever he felt for Kahoko directly. Heck, he appeared to have no shame at all at what he did that mortified Kahoko! He kneeled and kissed her hand! Her hand! Those delicate little fingers that she uses to create such beautiful melodies come from the violin? Oh, no; Len would not tolerate that.

What if Len did that to her, too? Would that, once and for all, tell him off and make his position in this school known? Len was the only one who should do that to _his_ ever-so lovely Kahoko—not Tsuchiura; not Kazuki-senpai; not Yunoki-senpai; and most especially not this Blonde! Would it hurt his sheltered ego? Would it hurt his safely covered-up reputation? Would it hurt anything more precious to him than the red-headed violinist? No, he believed not. He was going to be selfish and nothing was going to stop him from doing so. His only limitations were the student handbook wherein you can be immediately expelled for any disregard or breakage of rules. Len was going to be like this Blond—only a far more better version. No, he was not going to change his attitude; he was not going all smiley just because he was jealous. Heaven forbid; no!

…he was only going to dye his hair blond.


	3. Cookie

**Cookie**

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Where did those people get the idea that Len Tsukimori was a giving person? He was selfish—proven by his little but obvious acts of jealousy towards objects he found so dear to him being somehow taken away. Let's take them up one by one, shall we? Because after all, things that flawed Len were more interesting than what we all know he perpetually had.

His Violin. Now, people from the music department who knew him better than most people regarded Len's instrument as 'the only lady in his life' and other similar names mostly because it was irrefutable that Len spent majority of his day with _her_ and refused anybody else—leading to questions about Len's masculinity; Len, didn't it mind what others thought, though. He believed in himself—and yes, he probably had narcissism issues because of that confidence of his. But either way, Len knew that it was important to achieve what he's always longed for; his violin may be his only companion on the road to get it.

The Spotlight. Ah, yes; Len absolutely loved the spotlight. Though it may not have been obvious because of his quiet nature and _almost_ introvert personality (if it wasn't for him being rude and brash when people which he regarded as strangers went up to talk to him, that is). If he didn't _love_ the spotlight, wouldn't he had stopped persevering in order to gain the recognition he has always wanted? He wanted _fame_; slowly but surely, he was getting it.

But above all, what Len really loved (at this very moment, at least) were Kahoko's homemade cookies—they were simply heaven and mouthwatering; the overall feeling of delight that went through him with every bite wasn't (and he believed could never be) at par with anything else he had ever eaten. Heck, it could not even match the whole spark in his body when he and Kahoko played Ave Maria for the first time—and with that you know it's really something big. Kahoko would come bring them some day every week; lucky for Len, he would be able to get a lot during their happy picnics on the rooftop.

What was the big deal this time? Well, to put it into simpler terms, Hihara-senpai got the last cookie. After the bell had rung, Kahoko walked calmly into the familiar music department since people there were accustomed to it already; Hihara-senpai came jumping in at the sight of his _crush_ and took one of her not-so infamous cookies—which was actually the last one. And knowing that Len can go berserk over the simplest things that would make him jealous, he decided to get mad and ignore the redhead, leaving her with no one to eat with at the rooftop. It was not exactly _nice_, but Len thought of no other thing to do—how could he when all that kept passing through his mind was the thought of having no cookies.

Weird, he knows; it was like reaching for something then having it pulled away. But in any case, his attitude would not change; he would still forever be that selfish ice cube known as Len Tsukimori. And he knew that next week, _he_ would be getting the last cookie.


	4. Diary

**Diary**

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She loved writing in her diary. I mean, that's what you'd expect from a girl like her, who was bubbly and carefree, to do, right? Her feelings were important to her—proven by her optimistic views on life and how she would handle everything else that would have the audacity to rain on her sunshine-filled parade. Naturally, when you would think about it in the long run, Kahoko Hino must have a lot in her diary; oh, you know—that little fuzzy pink notebook that was always in her bag which she was always oh-so protective over. Many students wondered why she carried it around all the time when she could have just left it at her home; what they didn't know was that her mother and her sister were snoopier than Amou-san, even, and would _kill_ to take a glimpse at whatever the youngest redhead wrote almost daily.

He, however, could only wonder to himself about it. I mean, that's what you'd expect from a guy like him, who was so quiet and secretive, to do, right? Why he couldn't be a man about it was because of his too big of an ego—proven by his lowly views on strangers who did not at all appear to have the same prowess as him and his superiority complex issues. Naturally, when you think about it in the long run, Len Tsukimori would have a lot on his mind that would bother him and make him curious (considering how different Kahoko is from anybody else in his life dictionary, that is). He obviously wouldn't make it known to other students; especially not to those he considered his competition. No, he would _kill_ himself if others find out about those inquisitive questions he had about Kahoko's diary.

But when she left her bag in the practice room they shared during dismissal to get some refreshments for the both of them, Len didn't exactly know what to do; it was either he go lock the door and read it discretely or he go leave it and maintain his belief that he should not mind business that was not his. What was more probable was obviously the latter, but you may be missing out the major detail that it was _Kahoko_'s diary. And so, he found himself doing the former option. He'd only have time for one entry, perhaps, and he'd have to find a good date fast.

_April 22_.

Kami-sama, he would condemn himself soon afterwards.

_Dear Diary, school started two weeks ago and the feeling of being a junior is great! Everything's going fine and I'm balancing my studies with my violin time! Isn't that great? Speaking of violin time, I wonder what to get for Tsukimori-kun on his birthday! It's two days from now and I don't think that I could get him anything that he can't have. Maybe some cookies? No, we have them every week. Err—this is too hard! I really wish he would open up to me some more and just tell me what he wants. :(_

He remembered what happened two days after her entry. Ah, how could he? That day was…_terrible_. He'd rather not discuss the exact details since Kahoko broke her strings and they ended up with their lips together after getting—

"Tsu-Tsukimori-kun! What are you doing with my diary?"

—too close.


	5. Everything

**Everything**

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Kahoko Hino felt like an idiot at that moment—no, she _was_ an idiot. There were no specific moments that she could recall wherein she wasn't one. But there _were_ a select few moments where she felt just about everything intensify, which made her want to disappear for an infinite amount of time—perhaps, until everyone else wasn't there anymore; or when everyone had selective amnesia and just forgot about her? In actuality, those thoughts _were_ quite tempting. And as of that moment, she wished that the guy in front of her would just—_fam_.

Ah, but that guy was Len Tsukimori. He was _special_ in every possible way a normal girl would think of…wait, no; let me rephrase that. He was _too special_, meaning that he succeeded too much in everything. You name it, he has it or would have it; _everything_ was his for the taking. Yet Kahoko's obliviousness causes her to overlook many of whatever _everything _may be. There were a million things Len could have if he said he wanted them—all but one, perhaps? And sometimes, a million would be so worthless compared to one; it was like saying _everything meant nothing at all_.

But at that moment, that very idea could just fly out of the window.

She was getting herself lost in his eyes that were mere inches away from her. Never had she imagined to be stuck in this kind of position with him because at the same time, she never imagined him to be bold enough to do something like that, turning almost _everything, _all of her beliefs, upside down. It was only with Yunoki-senpai that she felt this _terrified_, with her heart pounding too rapidly against her chest—she was _nervous_. She didn't know what to do; what to say. Should she run away awkwardly like what she would do often? Err, maybe not this time. Though it may appear otherwise, she was kind of enjoying what was happening; inside, she was very amused that her heart wasn't just beating swiftly—it was fluttering with emotions that would sooner or later overwhelm her.

And what occurred between the two of them after those little sentiments of hers would most likely change everything.


	6. Fire

**Fire**

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She'd , one way or another, find herself losing to fire.

It wasn't completely unfathomable. She'd sooner see why she was like that, wouldn't she? It wasn't a question that was to be made sensitive for another or something of that sort. No, it was completely _simple_. She wasn't a pyromaniac or anything like that—but with the way she would spark a simple flame to throw what she little by little tried to build away, she might as well be one and die with something that she loved most: fire. How was it to be consumed by something you so greatly loved?

To her, fire was a burning strong emotion, some ardor that would somehow deluge you. It would serve as her inspiration, an incentive, something luminous enough to guide through the dark and lonely path she was making after the lie she started. She discovered that little spark when she was first handed that magical violin. It was like a little match that would start a bigger flame—a phenomenon like that makes you wonder how something so small can leave an aftershock so huge. But it was like that, wasn't it? It would always start with a little thing. And that lie, nonetheless, started all because of a little thing: Her so-called uniqueness that made her different from the rest of the general education students.

Fire could also be used to describe the intensity or brilliancy of something. And right now, for her, there were more than a million things she could compare to it. First, his sudden outburst a while ago while they were practicing was all so sudden—like a flare that started so quickly from a single spark. Second, the way she stormed out angrily, hiccupping and sobbing loudly, was heartbreaking—like how a small flame would struggle against the wind almost violently yet would still end up inevitably losing. Third, how she didn't find anyone to run to, seeing that he didn't run after her—like a weak flame left alone to slowly vanish as an enigma comes along to blow it away. And the list could perpetually go on, never-ending because of the life that goes on and on; so long that there was life, there was _fire_.

And the most passionate fire ablaze at that moment was the lie she had set herself. She enjoyed the warmth and brilliance it gave for a while, not knowing the consequences that would come with too much basking in—some people would rather ignore the blatant burns and scars that were developing from it.

It all would end up with her losing anyway.

She'd find herself giving in to that fire.


	7. Green

**Green**

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So far, there were two things that Len Tsukimori accomplished. He wasn't that proud of it, though—in fact, you could say there was anger in whatever he had thought of. The first one was that green was a horrid color; second, it was sickly enough to remind you of puke and would make you puke when you thought hard enough of it. Well, maybe it was just one whole idea that only correlated with a lot of other things. In any case, there was something special about him accomplishing those thoughts which made him internally grin with pride.

The former was proven by a girl he knew who wore a flowing gown that was dark green, the same color as Tsuchiura's hair, to a charity concert. Now, there may be nothing so unique about it, but if you would think of how your art teacher would scold you for clashing colors, then you'd see how it was so unpleasantly different. Red and green, huh? He remembered his very frank analysis the night he saw her: "You look like really out of season Christmas decorations."

Ah, but who was he to speak about what's _in-style_? Any other comment that would burst from his mouth might accuse him of being a metrosexual of some sort ; he definitely did not want _that_ to ruin his reputation. He looked at the girl he had insulted, no other than Kahoko Hino, the girl with the probably most beautiful scarlet hair in their school; she was taken aback and kept her head down. Len felt a sudden rush of guilt through his cold-blooded veins with the saddening sight of the beauty he _liked_ turn sad—but on the brightside, he saw that she was affected by what he commented, so surely it must have meant something!

Having an awkward silence amidst a quite chattery event wasn't at all the greatest thing to have, now was it? To add up to that, a certain moss-haired approached them as he saw the usually cheery girl suddenly switch moods. "What's the problem now, Ice Cube? I'm starting to think that you're low enough to hurt a girl's feelings," the pianist said with the usual disdain he used against Len. Ah, but Len couldn't really process what the other guy in front of him stated. No, he was too busy mocking him inside his mind. Err-who wouldn't be so amused with the sight of someone _stupid_ dress like what he was--a red suit, the same color as Kahoko's locks, was what he wore. It was clashing, too…_just like really out of season Christmas decorations._

If only it hadn't occurred to him that they were wearing something _matching_, he would still be continuously ridiculing the silly-looking pianist. _If only_, he thought_._ He harrumphed and turned his back against them, walking away _bitterly_.

There were other things about green he knew about.

Green was certainly the color of envy.


	8. Hell

**Hell**

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This was completely wrong. She wouldn't dare believe this—she wouldn't dare _do_ this! But the following words that wasn't so reassuring that her so-called friend told her kept reverberating in her ears. Apparently, it was either the dare or...well, she wouldn't say what since it was too mortifying for her to imagine. She could not bring herself to do it, she admitted, and she would never do it—not in her entire lifetime for there was surely hell to pay for it.

She would never, never ever, kiss Len Tsukimori. She could not even bring herself close to him without cringing as she would feel a sudden gust of icy wind suddenly blow from where he was! Under any—_any_—circumstance, even if it was the end of the world or he was the last man on earth, she would not—_absolutely not_—lock lips or whatever you call it with Len Tsukimori!

That was her creed. At least, ever since she could remember becoming civil with the ice cube. Then, suddenly, her lifelong friends bring up a game in which if you lose, you'd have to do a dare. And pretty much, you could guess what had happened. Kahoko had lost and after seeing that Len Tsukimori walked in their usual café to (as he explained later on) buy a cake for his mother as an errand, Mio and Nao whispered her punishment: _Kiss Len Tsukimori_.

And just how exactly do you suppose she would confront this situation? If she were to back out, then she'd be somehow breaking the heavy bond and trust put into the game by their tight-knit group of friends. If she were to _not_ back out, she'd be completely defying her own promise to herself.

She breathed in deeply as the giddy gazes thrown onto her from her friends intensified. She pouted and asked if they could possibly choose another challenge for her, earning her only a giggled shake of their heads. She slumped in her seat and looked at the tall figure that was Len Tsukimori. One kiss wouldn't hurt at all, right? And it wouldn't mean anything, right? And nothing will change between the two of them, right? And surely there wouldn't be any form of _hell_ that would come, right? No sudden Apocalypse, no form of Armageddon, no Big Crunch, no Eschatology, no Ragnarok, no anything.

She walked stealthily to where Tsukimori was, in front of the counter where some cakes were displayed, making sure that she wouldn't be noticed until she wanted to be. She tugged on his sleeve and closed her eyes, anxious thoughts suddenly flooding in her mind. She went on her toes quickly as she puckered her lips to crash into his cheek.

_To hell with it!_

Unbeknownst to her, Tsukimori, at the same time, at an act of impulse at the sudden tug, turned his head to her direction and found his lips against Kahoko's soft ones.

_A-A-Awkward…_

Both of their eyes were wide open, staring at their own reflections in the golden eyes of the person in front of them. Their lips were still pressed together lightly and people were beginning to stare at them. With a flow of realization finally coming into Kahoko's oh-so slow mind, she pushed Tsukimori away and covered her lips as she screamed.

_Hell was on the loose._


	9. Immortal

**Immortal**

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She stands, not sits, along the rails of the area assigned for the mezzanine seats. She's small anyway, she's sure that the people behind her wouldn't mind if she stood there. The whole theater is dark and she could only make out a few shadows from below. A few murmurs here and there, but it was otherwise very quiet. She fidgets in nervousness as everyone shushes. She looks around to see more silhouettes fixated at the center point. In her case, directly in front of her. She bites her upper lip, getting somehow agitated and scared. What did she have to lose anyway? It's not like it was her down there on stage, right? It's not like it matters.

But it does, and that's what terrifies her. The spotlight finally shines on a figure she could easily recognize and a contorted smile etches itself on her face. She tries to console herself with the thought that it really doesn't matter, but it would always be overruled by the thought that it does. If she tried to convince herself further, she would be lying—and she really doesn't think that she has it in herself to lie. The murmurs come back and other sounds, like light or nervous coughs, are also audible. She doesn't know why exactly, but she thinks it's because he's started to play.

She's heard it before. In more than one occasion, too. Once, when she was spying from outside the window in his usual practice room. Another time was when he showed her how to do some cavatina, but after her failing and him becoming exasperated, he decided to practice on his own. In any case, it still sounds beautiful, especially since he's the one playing. _He_ looks beautiful—everything about him is. It becomes particularly aggravating at one point, but she's accepted the fact. She's accepted the fact that he's perfect, she could never measure up, and that she will never be good enough for him. She likes to think that as he stands there, he finds inspiration in her, too, and that he really would choose her over the future he planned out for himself ever since he was small.

But he wouldn't. He's something near a god with his perfection and he's practically immortalizing himself through what he's doing now. And like whatever cliché Greek mythology has taught her, gods usually don't step down their seat of ultimate superiority or give up what they have for some mortal, now do they? He'd leave her, eventually, as he runs after his dreams. She keeps those fears to herself.

His performance is over and the audience stands and applauds. She grips the rails tighter, breathes, repeats some mantra she conjured up, and forces herself to walk away. He's immortal, and she's stuck way below his league.

**.**

Hey, I'm alive! :)  
Maybe I'll update more. I don't know, I'm failing bio and math. :(


	10. Jumble

**Jumble**

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Wrong note. Len Tsukimori cringes—but could you blame him for being so atelophobic? Especially with all the pressure and criticisms that he doesn't really asks for but receives anyway, what was the poor guy to do? Pretty soon it won't matter, though. He'd be able to start anew in another country, with new classmates, a greater audience, better teachers, and maybe he'd find a girlfriend there or something.

_Like I'd even dare._

And not so coincidentally, Hino's name pops up in his mind as he thinks of this life—if that's what you call it—he's leaving behind in Japan. Funny how she doesn't even know when he's leaving, yet he's pretty sure that she's _probably_ the only reason why he's having doubts. He's confused and he doesn't even know why he's willing to put out a huge step towards his dream for some girl—an amateur, no less. Well, maybe he could settle for something...lower his standards?

_No, that's not like me at all._

He again fixates his view on the sheets on the stand in front of him and really, _really_ tries his best to focus. No, the opening notes are similar to some part of the piece she's going to perform for her upcoming competition and he finds himself thinking of her again.

_This method of torture is just exquisite. I bet that wherever she is at the moment, she's enjoying my torment._

The notes on the page start to jumble and rearrange themselves to look like a heart—no, her face—no, but they're not even red—and damn, this was all too difficult for him to handle.

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Shorter than usual. Ugh, I read chapter 69 and I'm quite (by quite, I mean very) anxious. I saw chapter 70, but it's in Chinese and I feel like crying because Tsukimori-kun is just too asdf for me to handle. The Ultimate Len Tsukimori Guide will be updated within the week, though. So yay.


	11. Kingdom Hearts

**Kingdom Hearts**

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"Eh, really? Len Tsukimori-san? Rejecting Mayu-chan? He's so heartless!"

She chokes and almost stumbles as she hears that. Clutching her violin case in one hand, she regains her footing and leans on the wall to balance herself. The two girls chatting in the hallway stop their own discussion to stare at her, most likely thinking _here's that gen ed student again—what was her name? Oh, oh, right; it's—_

"Hino-san, isn't it? Are you okay?" one of them dares to ask. The other girl still looks at her queerly with a certain uneasiness.

"Yeah!" she replies, standing up and straightening her skirt. "I was just heading to the practice rooms and, you know, practice! I just tripped—clumsy me! As usual!"

She laughs awkwardly and scratches the back of her head. The two students are still unconvinced that she's totally normal, she could see that, so she adds, "I heard you two talking about Tsukimori-kun just now, but I should really be going, so—"

_Wait, no, that's wrong!_ she mentally scolds herself. _You weren't supposed to tell them you knew what they were talking about!_

"I'm sorry, excuse me!" she quickly mends and runs to the next corridor where the practice rooms were. She sits on the floor to catch her breath and perhaps calm her heart from the nervousness of the situation she was just in.

_They said he was heartless, not _a_ heartless! Dumb Kahoko, stop thinking of these things! Wait, no—this is Hihara-senpai's fault! If he hadn't given me that game, I wouldn't be thinking of these things! But it's not like I regret playing it because it's so addicting! I'm failing history because of that game keeping me up! And I didn't get to practice the piece Tsukimori-kun told me to for our next session!_

She groans into her hands, frustrated that a game like that has ruined her life. One door opens and she digs her face deeper into her hands, hoping that the music student just practicing doesn't know her and won't recognize her in any way.

After a few steps, the student stops in front of her and seems to kneel in front of her. She peaks through the spaces in between her slender fingers to find a blue-haired man with a handkerchief in hand, ready to offer to her in case she would take it.

"Hino? Are you okay? Did anyone bully you again?" he asks, genuinely concerned.

She puts her hands down, revealing her non-tear streaked face. He retracts his hand with a frown, and looks at her calculatingly, trying to asses her situation and make an inference based on what he sees from her.

But what he doesn't know is that as she's looking back at his own amber eyes, she's also analyzing him—looking at his neatly combed hair, his pale skin, his lips contorted into a worried grimace. He's not a shadow, and she's relieved that the fact has finally been ingrained in her head.

"Hino, are you okay?" he asks again, this time looking at her confusedly.

"I thought you were a heartless," she replies unconsciously.

"_Excuse me_?"

And she groans, puts her face back into her hands.

**.**

Here's an update! For the TULTG fans out there, there's a notice on my profile. ;)


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